


New Moon

by heres_ur_ramen



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3racha take care of each other, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bang Chan-centric, Character Turned Into Vampire, Gen, Vampire Bang Chan, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Vampires, hiding a vampire from the other trainees, i mean this IS a vampfic, predebut 3racha, warnings for looooots of blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-13 12:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heres_ur_ramen/pseuds/heres_ur_ramen
Summary: The walk from 3RACHA's tiny, rundown studio to the JYP trainee dorms is a short one. The three boys never expected to be attacked on the way there. The very last thing they expected was for the attacker to beless than human.Suddenly, everything is different. How will they hide the bite marks on Chris' neck?





	1. Blood Spilled

“Screw this,” Changbin said. “Let’s go home.” 

It was the first thing to be said in the studio since midnight. Jisung yawned, stretching his legs and letting his chair roll backwards. “I agree. We haven’t made any progress in an hour. Let’s just sleep.” His voice was low from exhaustion. 

Chris shook his head, heavy with fatigue from his own long hours. He didn’t want to make Jisung overwork himself, but he wasn’t ready to leave yet. 

“Just a little more,” he requested. “I’ll be done soon.” 

“You said that yesterday, and then stayed until four in the morning,” Changbin pointed out. The smaller man approached Chris, leaning on the back of his chair. “Come on, Mr. Leader. We all need sleep, you too.” 

“I saw you nod off five minutes ago,” Jisung added. “You’re not getting work done anymore.”

“He’s right, hyung.” Changbin let go of the chair and went for his jacket, which was hanging by the door. 

“Okay, I’ll come with you,” Chris relented. He stood, feeling a bit unsteady, and grabbed the back of the chair. Jesus, maybe he did need to sleep. 

All of them gathered their things in silence. The only sounds were the jingle of keys and an occasional yawn from Jisung. Chris wrapped himself in his thick black coat, hugging it closer like a blanket, before venturing outside. 

The night air was freezing cold and crisp on his skin, making him shiver and purse his lips. He felt more alert with the wind cutting through his clothes as he watched Changbin fumble with his keys for a minute before finally locking the studio door. 

The trek to the JYP trainee dorms was a short one, but at nearly two in the morning, the shadows seemed to stretch for miles, and Chris wished he could walk faster. Behind him, Jisung was leaning into Changbin’s side despite being taller, muttering something incomprehensible. Ahead of him, the deserted streets sent a chill down his spine. A street lamp flickered fitfully before going out completely. 

“That’s so creepy,” said Jisung, his voice barely carrying up from the back.

Chris walked faster. He was approaching the dark section of the street. He couldn’t help glancing around, peering into the alleys and dimly lit side streets anxiously. 

His heartbeat only calmed when he stepped into the ring of yellow light from the next street lamp. 

Barely seconds after he crossed into the light, something flickered at the edge of his vision and a bloodcurdling scream pierced the night air, and Chris was rolling on the ground somewhere. He coughed and realized that the scream was his own. Plunged into darkness with his attacker, he tried to twist away, only to be held in place by something much stronger than him. The person pressed his body against Chris’ back in a way that made him sick. 

Two pairs of panicked footsteps pounded their way towards him until Changbin and Jisung appeared at the mouth of the alleyway- he was in an alleyway, so that’s why it was dark- and practically skidded to a stop. 

In a last-ditch attempt to save himself, Chris lurched forwards, into the dim yellow light of the street lamp. Twisting harshly, he reached a hand out. “Help me,” he cried, but his bandmates could only stand in horror, as if their fear glued them to the ground. 

Searing pain suddenly spread from his shoulder. He screamed again as tears sprung from his eyes. Jisung was in the alleyway now, Changbin at his heels, crying out. In the darkness, three pairs of hands were grabbing at him. It sounded like someone’s fist connected with a face, but the sounds were swimming in his ears now. All he could feel was the pain like poison in his shoulder, and something warm and wet dripping down his shirt. He faintly heard Jisung scream as he slipped out of consciousness. 

* * *

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh god,” Jisung muttered fervently, falling to his knees. Chris was lying on the ground, his white shirt stained deep red. A growing pool of blood was sickly illuminated by the light that found its way into the alley. The youngest barely noticed Changbin at his side, fists still clenched from the punch he threw, looking on in dazed horror. 

Jisung’s hands were shaking as he turned his friend’s head to the side, gently checking for a pulse. He almost cried when he found it, faint and slow but undeniably there. 

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, you’re okay,” he muttered with a shaking voice. “It’s fine,” he assured, unsure who he was even talking to. 

“Oh my god,” Changbin spoke up. “Is that where he’s bleeding from?” 

Jisung followed his gaze to Chris’ neck, which was covered in slick red blood. The sheer amount of it made him want to throw up his instant ramyeon from earlier. 

“W-we need to stop the bleeding,” Changbin reasoned. “H-here.” He unwrapped his scarf and crawled towards Chris’ head, pressing it into the side of his neck. A dark stain immediately bloomed on the green fabric, seeping onto Changbin’s hands. 

“Back to the studio,” Jisung said suddenly. “Let’s go back to the studio.” 

Changbin looked at him like he was crazy. 

“It’s closer than the dorms,” he explained. 

“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” As soon as he said it, Changbin pursed his lips. Jisung shook his head, although he wasn’t sure why. 

“You’re right,” Changbin whispered. “I have a bad feeling about that.” 

Jisung tore his eyes away from Chris to peer out of the alley. “If you keep that scarf on him, I can carry most of his weight,” he said. 

“Okay, let’s- are you crying?”

“N-no,” Jisung whimpered. Tears dripped down his face. He turned away from the light, and seeing Chris’ bloodied body again, a miserable sob tore from his lips. 

Changbin was already trying to lift him up with one hand, the other occupied with the scarf, so Jisung wiped his eyes with his fist and grabbed his other shoulder. Together, they managed to get to their feet, with Chris’ limp body hanging between them. As promised, Jisung carried most of his weight, so that Changbin could keep pressure on the wound. 

Somehow, they made it the whole two blocks back to the studio without seeing a single person. Changbin let go of Chris for a moment to unlock the door, but his shaking hands kept the key from even entering the lock. The teen pounded his head on the door once before trying again, finally opening the door and flicking on the lights. 

He helped Jisung carefully move Chris to the bare, rickety old couch next to the wall, laying his body across despite him being taller than the couch was long. 

“Okay, okay, we should clean it now,” Changbin said, still clearly panicking, from the urgency in his shaking voice. 

“Right, we’ve got a washrag in the bathroom,” Jisung said, hurriedly dashing to said bathroom. He returned a moment later with a worn-out rag, soaked in warm water. Changbin pulled the scarf away, cringing at the way it stuck to Chris’ skin, and Jisung quickly replaced it with the rag. He carefully rubbed the drying blood away from his chest first, muttering something about his ruined shirt, before cautiously scrubbing at his shoulder, where they assumed the wound was. 

“What is _that_?” Changbin asked when the blood was finally cleared enough to see. Jisung’s hands stilled. Delicately adorning Chris’ shoulder, where his collarbone met his neck, were two puncture marks. They were an angry, swollen red, and about two inches apart. About as wide as a human’s canines, Jisung realized. But there was no way a human did this- not with how precise and deep the wounds were. Human teeth could never sink into his friend’s shoulder like that. 

“Did that freak _bite_ him?” Changbin asked, astonished. 

“No,” Jisung whispered. “There’s no way a _person_ did that.” 

Changbin was silent beside him. 

Wordlessly, he went back to wiping the blood away, lost in his swirling thoughts. There were no animals in the alleyway. Nothing but that stranger, who disappeared as soon as Changbin punched him. The knife wound that they expected wasn’t there. Somehow a bite to the shoulder had caused the sheer amount of blood that now soaked Chris’ entire shirt, front and back. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense tonight. 

The clock read 3:04 AM when Jisung finally nodded off, satisfied with the bandages and antibacterial salve that Changbin had found in a first aid kit under the sink. He sank into his work chair without a sound, letting his mind slip into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Wake Up...

Jisung awoke slowly, as if a thick blanket were being lifted from him. It took him a whole minute to realize that he was sprawled awkwardly over his work chair, still wearing his jeans and jacket from yesterday. His heart jumped when he saw the blood smeared down his side, having long since dried and stained his shirt for good. 

Peeling himself out of the chair, he groaned in pain. Sleeping in a chair made him crazy sore. He felt like he’d run a marathon last night and then been hit by a truck. 

After he stripped off his ruined jacket, Jisung took in the situation around him. Changbin was curled up sideways in his chair, his head lolling over one armrest and legs flung out over the other. His own bloody coat was tossed to the side, revealing an oversized grey shirt that was only minorly stained. He looked like he was having a bad dream, with his brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth twitching into a frown. 

And Jisung couldn’t blame him for having nightmares. What happened last night… he didn’t want to think about it. 

But he had to, and so he turned his attention to the other side of the room. There, with the midmorning sunlight illuminating his sickly pale skin, Chris laid across the couch. He looked even worse in the light of day. Nothing he wore was free of dark red bloodstains. His ruined shirt was flung in a heap at the head of the couch. The parts of his shoulder that Jisung had missed with his rag last night had dried and flaked, and more blood had seeped through his poorly wrapped bandages. Jisung couldn’t see his chest rise or fall.

Perhaps the most worrying thing was that he hadn’t moved a finger since they laid him down. 

Jisung worried his lower lip, trying to make sense of the situation in his head. _We worked late last night. Chris was attacked- he was mugged- and we brought him back here._ Other details flooded his head, like the strange bite marks, the way the stranger disappeared without a trace, the way Chris now laid perfectly still- as if he were dead. 

Jisung’s heart lurched at the thought, and he threw himself out of the chair, kneeling by the couch and placing his hand over his friend’s lips. His relief was almost tangible when he felt the faintest breath brush his fingers.

“Is he…?” Changbin’s quiet voice came from behind him, thick with sleep and weary with a lack of it. 

“He’s breathing,” Jisung replied. 

“Thank God.” Changbin crouched next to him. Jisung had never heard the older boy thank God in his life. Hearing him say that gave another layer of gravity to the situation. 

They were both startled by a deep, shaky breath from the couch. 

“Hyung!” Changbin grabbed his hand immediately, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Chris didn’t open his eyes, but tossed his head to the side, hissing when his bandages shifted against his wounds.

“Hey, don’t move yet,” Jisung said. “Just talk to us.”

Chris scrunched up his face in pain before opening his eyes ever so slightly. 

“Jisung…? Changbin…?” His voice was hoarse and low.

“We’re here, hyung,” Changbin assured him. Chris said nothing. A moment seemed to stretch into eternity until he finally spoke.

“Everything hurts,” he whispered. “Can you-” he winced- “please close the blinds?”

“I’ve got it,” Changbin promised, hurrying to close them. The room was plunged into darkness, with only thin bars of light illuminating them. 

“Do you...do you need anything else, hyung?” Jisung asked anxiously.

Chris closed his eyes again, clearly frustrated. “I’m not sure… everything is too loud…” 

“Do you want to wear headphones?” Jisung suggested. “We have the nice noise-cancelling ones, so they should help, right?” Chris only nodded. Jisung got up and rummaged around in their stuff, returning with some headphones, which he carefully helped to place on Chris’ head.

Changbin came back to the couch. Jisung turned to face him, meeting his worried eyes.

“Are you sure we should be taking care of him ourselves?” Changbin asked quietly. “He can hardly even move.”

“We’re not taking him to the hospital,” Jisung said, surprising himself with his own firmness. “You agreed, remember? I’ve got a bad feeling about it.” 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole situation, but I’m not risking Chan _dying_ over some stupid hunch,” Changbin argued. 

Jisung felt panic rising in him for reasons unknown. “No, no, they won’t help him.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I’m not sure yet! But this isn’t a normal mugging! You’ve gotta realize that, right? Somebody _bit_ him, for fuck’s sake.” 

“Guys,” Chris said. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.” His headphones had been taken off, and he was propping himself up by his elbows.

“Oh, no, don’t sit up yet!” Jisung insisted. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine,” Chris said, shaking his head incredulously. “That’s what I’m trying to say. It feels like I got run over last night, and my shoulder burns like hell, but I’m not hurting as bad as I should be.”

“No way,” Changbin muttered. “You’ve gotta be in shock or something.”

Chris lied back down. “I’m not.”

Changbin looked at Jisung, sharing an awed look.

“There’s absolutely no way you could’ve healed that fast,” Jisung whispered. “There was… there was blood everywhere. Look at that.” He raised a shaky finger to point at Chris’ discarded shirt, soaked through with blood. Chris twisted his head to look at it, realization dawning on his face. He looked horrified, then went even paler than he already was.

“Did I really… bleed that much?” His voice sounded faint.

The other two nodded gravely. Silence followed.

“I should be dead,” Chris finally said. He was laying down again, staring at the ceiling. “That’s enough blood loss to kill a person.” 

“It is,” Changbin agreed. “You’re lucky.”

“I should be dead,” he repeated. 

* * *

Jisung and Changbin both busied themselves with taking care of Chris, keeping him practically pinned to the couch despite his protests. They fussed over anything and everything until Changbin finally left to buy better bandages and medicine, practically bolting out the door in his rush to get there and back. 

Jisung, having run out of things to worry over, finally settled on ordering takeout for the three of them. He took Chris’ request, and sent a text to Changbin asking him the same thing.

While on the phone, he watched his friend out of the corner of his eye. Chris was staring blankly at the ceiling, the same as he had been all morning. His stillness was slightly unnerving, unnatural. Although he was now rebandaged and dressed in a clean spare shirt that had been dug up from Jisung’s bag, he almost looked like he could’ve stopped breathing a few minutes ago.

“Channie hyung?” Jisung asked tentatively. Chris blinked and turned his head. He really looked sick now, glossy eyes and paler skin. Even his lips looked grey. Jisung felt sick now, deep in the pit of his stomach, like the stereotypical butterflies had opted to gnaw on his insides instead of fluttering gently. 

“You’ve been staring for a long time,” Jisung said softly, forcing his unexplained anxiety down.

“Oh,” Chris said. The room became quiet again. It stayed quiet until a knock on the door startled them both.

Jisung jumped up to answer the door. He poked his head out, keeping it as closed as possible.

“Ah, hello, is this your order?” A kind-looking young man held out two plastic bags.

“Mhm, I think so. Lemme just get my wallet.” Jisung closed the door quickly, still trying to block Chris from view. 

After rummaging through the pockets of his discarded coat, he returned and paid the delivery boy, with a generous tip. Thankfully, no blood had seeped into his wallet. 

Changbin arrived just as he was opening the boxes, bags of medical supplies in hand.

“Wow, overboard much?”

Changbin huffed and pulled out two rolls of gauze bandages. “I was worried,” he defended, and began pulling out countless small bottles of different antibacterial salves and sprays. The crown jewel of his haul was a package of Reese’s peanut butter cups, ‘to make Chris feel better.'

Changbin helped Chris sit up while Jisung unpackaged their food and chopsticks.

“You don’t need help, do you?” Jisung asked.

“I can feed myself,” Chris replied wearily.

Changbin bit his lip. “Are we being too overbearing, hyung?”

Chris laughed faintly, the first happy sound he’d made today. “Just a bit,” he said, taking a bite of noodles. Immediately, he made a face. “Ugh, this isn’t very good.”

“It isn’t?” Changbin tried a bite. He looked almost thoughtful while chewing. “It’s not so bad.”

“I think it’s tasteless,” Chris mumbled.

Jisung ate some too. It was kind of salty and cold, but not particularly “tasteless."

“Well, you need to eat something anyways,” Changbin said, pushing the box towards him. “You lost a lot of blood. And you look really pale.” 

“Creepy-vampire kind of pale,” Jisung supplied through a mouthful of noodles.

“Thanks for the compliments, guys. I feel so great.” 

“Sorry…” Jisung murmured. He watched Chris make another face as he ate.

Chris set his chopsticks down pretty quickly, excusing himself to the bathroom. He took a gauze roll and one of Changbin’s bottles of antibacterial with him, despite the other’s protests. _"I can change them myself,"_ he insisted. He disappeared into the bathroom, and they heard the click of the lock turning. 

“So much for taking care of him,” Changbin grumbled.

Jisung sighed and put his food down. “Maybe we _are_ being too overbearing.”

“I guess so.” Changbin leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Man, what’s so interesting about that ceiling?” Jisung whined. 

“Uh, what?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally!! i got this beta-ed and am somewhat happy with it! 
> 
> tell me whatcha think in the comments ^^

**Author's Note:**

> sup yall 
> 
> i wrote this in one go and didnt get it beta-ed so im SO-RRY if it sucks (ha thats a vamp pun) 
> 
> tune in later to find out how 3racha copes with their leader technically dying while they sleep :)


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